The sun shone onto the terrace. First only us two, then the dog also sneaked out there and lay down on the kid’s trampoline. The abscess on the underside near the root of his tail had once more grown a little bigger. He had recovered from the gut infection, so it would soon be time to discuss the operation again with the vet. Then we started talking about maybe having his balls off, too, it’s roughly the same area. At the lecture on dog behaviour that we had attended, three women, the heads of three different dog schools spoke. One of them mentioned those dog-owners (mostly men, but some women also) for whom neutering their male dogs is a problem – I am certainly one of those – and she made some good arguments for having the operation. It had made me think. The sun was warm on the terrace and I thought maybe I could ask the Tarot cards about this one.

Asking yes-no questions is not recommended, so the first question I asked was this: what would be the consequence, what archetypal line best describes the situation that would result if we had Alex’s balls chopped off. I got no. 14 in the major arcana, Art. As far I as can remember, I drew this card for the first time in my life.

“Combination of forces, realization, action based on accurate calculation; the way of escape, success after elaborate manoeuvres.” – says the Instruction Booklet by the Hermit, and in the picture, bottom left, there’s Alex himself, calmly gorging himself on the contents of a golden bowl, sharing with a red phoenix bird, while the good housewife standing above them feeds them all manner of good things.

But what would happen if we left those sizable bollocks well alone? I drew the three of cups in reply to that question. The card is called the Lord of Abundance. “The idea of love has come to fruition. The feeling of being loved by somebody else. Joy and internal healing.” – so we could have a litter of puppies, too, is how I understood that. I was maybe 8 years old when I witnessed such a birth. To this day I remember my feelings.

Then, seeing as the cards were there before me, I asked one of my usual questions: Who am I?

The five of clubs.

Strife.

“Suggested divinatory elucidation: a struggle to set forth one’s intentions; maybe even an interruption in activities or doings, which is quite annoying.”

That scared me a little. I quickly asked another question: Who will I be?

I stopped there. An hour and a half and a great deal of kitchen work later, I drew another card. That time, I asked for an image to reflect the here and now. Two of disks. Change.
Regardless of what one thinks about what is actually going on when one plays with these long-used cards, such a sequence is somehow still interesting.